


SkaterBoy

by EmmaLennyEddie



Category: Fanboy & Chum Chum (Cartoon)
Genre: Crushing like whoa, Duke's skateboard is whack, I've shipped this for years, M/M, Silly references, Skateboarding, SkaterBoy, You hear?, and the helmet was stolen, bros being bros, cute innocent crushes, dumb kids, general stupidity, the ship name is SkaterBoy, this fandom needs more wholesome stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:08:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26720416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmaLennyEddie/pseuds/EmmaLennyEddie
Summary: The look of Duke's skateboard raises many questions amongst his friends that he's NOT prepared to answer, namely about one Fanboy.
Relationships: Duke/Fanboy (Fanboy & Chum Chum)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 7





	SkaterBoy

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: This was a fun challenge for me! Fleshing out characters who literally had about seven lines combined in FBCC is a task, but one that is quite rewarding once I've finished. I hope everyone will enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it. If you have any questions, comments, critiques, or concerns, I'm open to seeing them.

_The underside of Duke's skateboard has interesting designs, doesn't it?_

Duke Ellington and his best buddies Cheech Gomez and Michael Johnson walked to Nuclear Park after a long day of skateboarding to relax in the shade. Unable to hold up his weight, Duke tossed his board onto the grass and collapsed beneath the picnic tree. Michael and Cheech followed suit, hopping over the streams of nuclear waste before flopping onto their backs.

"Whew! That was sick," Michael reminisced with a proud grin. "So, who’s up for a freeze when we get back?"

"We deserve it,” Cheech praised, giving his buddy a high five. “Pros in the making!”

"Oh, c'mon," Duke scoffed, unimpressed. "You clowns did NOT own that landing.” Michael’s grin faded. "Don’t look at me like that, Bro. Be real. You sucked."

Wounded, Michael's jaw dropped, and Cheech promptly came to his defense. "Aw, lay off him," he taunted. "He would've done better if you'd brought us to an actual skatepark instead of that sketchy patch of radiation."

"Not sketchy," Duke corrected. "Challenging." He folded his arms behind his head. "Heh. That’s exactly what a _grommet_ would say.”

Cheech punched his leg, reminding Duke that he was the best skateboarder around ONLY because he'd been training since he was a literal infant. Duke opened one eye to peek at his friend. "That's how all the pros start out. Should have hopped the bandwagon sooner, Cheech."

Michael slung an arm over his friend and stuck out his tongue. "Ignore him. Better a newbie than a poser!"

Duke shrugged. "Takes one to know one, Jackson,” he shot back.

"Hey!" Michael sat up and tossed a clump of grass at Duke's face. "Leave Mr. Jackson outta this!"

"Oh, what, are you mad that I've got _steeze_ and you don't?" Duke teased, brushing the green blades away. 

Cheech punched Duke's shoulder. "Don't project!" the boy snickered. "Everyone knows that you're jealous of Michael's sick moves." 

"That's right!" Michael exclaimed, jumping to his feet and striking a pose. "Ya’ll be looking at the next--"

"--Dwayne!” Cheech very confidently cut in. 

“Don’t get it twisted," Duke cut in. "I can bust a move or two, but Johnson here can't even ollie. The dude fell thirty times."

"That's because the nose of his board hit the edge of the ramp!" Cheech argued, but his friend's face only contorted with uncertainty. "Of course, you weren’t watching. Here, lemme show ya." Before Duke could protest, Cheech grabbed his special skateboard and snapped the jock out of chill mode.

"Give it back, Man," he ordered, holding out his hand expectantly. 

"Chillax! I'm just showing you how it happened," Cheech assured. He and Michael glanced at each other, visibly confused. Duke's flat, edged tone came as a surprise.

"It's my best board," Duke explained, understanding how he was coming off. "I just don't want anyone messin' with it."

"Cool your jets, my guy," Cheech chuckled, testing the board's weight. Duke flinched as he exposed the underside. "Don't be such a--" Cheech paused to study the tan designs decorating the board's wooden area. Duke felt a surge of panic, his words stuck in his throat. He didn't like the way Cheech's face scrunched up with apparent confusion, prompting a curious Michael to take a look. Duke snatched his skateboard back without another word. 

"Bro?" Cheech asked, surprised at his bud's sudden aggression.

Duke just stood there angrily, regarding his friends' baffled expressions with distress, and it wasn't long before their faces shone with huge grins. Duke closed his eyes. He knew what was coming.

“...Bro?” Cheech asked again, the strain of holding back laughter prominent in his speech.

"Bro-o-o?" Michael sang, leaning forward to tap Duke's forehead.

“What?” Duke finally snapped, hiding the board behind his back. 

“Your "best" skateboard." Cheech pointed. "On the bottom...are those Fanboy’s logos?”

Duke swallowed, flushing with embarrassment as his friends appeared on the cusp of discovering something private. "Nah, Man! They’re custom bat designs. I got 'em from--"

"They're custom-made?" Cheech interrupted with a gasp. There was a moment of silence before he and Michael began cackling.

"Oh-Em-Gee!" Michael shouted, hands on his knees. "They ARE his logos! Heehee!"

“Shut up," Duke mumbled, tossing the board aside like he didn't care. "I mean, no, they're not--"

"Why'd you decorate your poor skateboard like that?" Cheech mock gasped, clutching at his face. "I mean, the Chum Chum helmet is bad enough--" he gestured to Duke's orange and white helmet, which indeed sported the sidekick's logos. "--unless...?"

“You got a crush on Faaaanboy!" Michael sang, dancing a smooth jig before his steaming friend. "Whooo, you got a crush on Faaaanboy! Shamone!”

Dreadfully abashed, Duke stamped his foot. “No, I don't!" he spat. "I’m not a friggin’ gaywad--I like girls! I dated Francine last month!”

“Nah, I getcha,” Cheech assured with a sly grin. “You’re like, half-gaywad!” They guffawed again.

Duke clenched his fists as his brain worked to find a way out of this. “Even if I _was_ a gaywad--which I'm NOT--I wouldn't waste my time with someone who wears his underwear on the outside of his stinkin' clothes!”

“Pretty hot, huh, Duke?" Cheech cracked, and Michael practically doubled over with laughter. "You love it!”

“No, I DON'T!” Duke yelled, slamming them back. "You retards don't know what you're talking about!"

"No?" Cheech simpered, crossing his arms knowingly. "Then, try to explain the logos, Duke. Do it, Wuss. You won't."

"Forget the logos, Estavez!" Duke sidestepped. “You’ve talked to Fanboy--"

"Unfortunately," Cheech sighed.

"--why would I find someone like _that_ appealing?”

Cheech and Michael glanced at each other with matching grins. "We don't know," Michael tittered. "Why do you?”

Duke slapped a hand against his forehead, quickly running out of patience for this nonsense. “I DON'T," he refuted. "There ain't a single thing about him that I like. His chipmunk voice, his green eyes, his buck teeth, his stupid costume; all of him is as ugly as heck! And he has green eyes!"

"You've said that twice now," Michael tried, but Duke was starting to ramble.

"Who the heck has green eyes?!” he snapped. "He--" he stopped suddenly, regarding the shocked expressions adorning his friends' faces.

Cheech's jaw was hanging. "Oh my gosh," he gaped.

"Shut up."

Cheech ignored Duke in favor of putting an arm around Michael's shoulder. "Bro, there's only one explanation for this."

"Shut **UP**."

"Our boy's _ **in**_ _**lo** **ve!"**_ They gushed in unison, bouncing together in a small circle and whooping and hollering like madmen. Duke stared at his animated companions, dismayed. He needed to skedaddle before they turned their attention back to him.

"I'm out," he mumbled, grabbing his skateboard and vowing to feed it to a wood chipper as soon as he returned to town.

"That's a great idea!” Michael exclaimed, enthusiastically grabbing Duke's shoulders before he could depart. “Ask him out!”

"Huh?!" Duke reeled back at the absurdity of the notion.

“Ooooh, you should! You’ve gotta ask him out," Cheech cackled, rubbing his hands together like an evil schemer. "The look on his face would be hysterical!”

Duke bristled. He wasn't about to let his personal business be reduced to mere entertainment for his dumb friends. "No way."

"Aw... He's shy," Michael whispered, holding his hands over his heart with genuine compassion. "You poor dude, having to hold all that in."

Cheech was less sympathetic. “Come on, you pansy!" he snorted. "You have half-bad taste, so what?" His eyes flickered upwards. "We don't judge.”

That did it. Duke stepped forward and grabbed a fistful of Cheech's shirt, clenching his other fist and poising it. “Bro, I swear, if you don’t shut your face in TWO seconds, I'm gonna smash it in.”

Michael's levity passed upon realizing that they'd pushed Duke to his limit, but before he could intervene, Cheech cupped his hands around his mouth like a funnel, or more specifically, like a megaphone. Duke paled. Oh, no.

“Oh, FANBOOOOY!” Cheech called. Duke gasped and released his friend's shirt, prepared to run if need be. He didn't even have a chance. Out of literal nowhere, Fanboy leaped down from the branches and landed in the center of their circle, scaring the living daylights out of the group and causing them to fall back on their haunches in shock. 

Duke sputtered and went beet red. How much of that did Fanboy hear? Indeed, not a lot, if that carefree smile was anything to go by. Unperturbed by their reactions, Fanboy struck a pose. “Ya called?” He looked around. "Oh, hi, guys!" he greeted cheerfully. 

"Sup?" Michael gasped.

Cheech, clutching at his stretched shirt, grinned mischievously at Duke. "Yeah, what's up, Fanboy?"

"The branches. Now, what can I do for ya on this beautiful day, my fine fellows?” Fanboy inquired, placing his hands on his hips and striking another heroic pose. "Need any saving?"

“No! N-Nothing,” Duke snapped, still recovering from the unexpected entrance and refusing to make eye contact with the boy in green and purple. “Scram.”

“Ah, ah, ah!” Fanboy wagged his finger. “First I must address the citizen's distress call.”

“Ugh, Cheech, tell him it was a—" Duke tried to command, but when he turned to his friends, they were gone, leaving nothing but a trail of radioactive dust in their wake, “—prank." He slumped. "Bro."

"Hey, what gives?" Fanboy shouted after the trail of dust. "...Eh, tap dancing lessons, I'm certain," he assumed. Shifting his attention to Duke, he clasped his hands together.

"What do you want?" Duke groaned.

Fanboy held up his hands in defense. "Ooh, was this a false alarm? It was, wasn’t it?” he cringed without Duke answering. “Snap, I knew I shouldn't have been so hasty on the rebound… Well, whaddaya know.”

Duke was beside himself. He swallowed hard and turned away from Fanboy's piercing green eyes. “Sure. False alarm. I--er--we don't need your help.”

“Then why didja call my name in the first place, Duke? Don’t you know how important it is that the hotline be kept open for serious calls?”

Duke shook his head helplessly, ruling that it didn't matter either way. Hearing Fanboy saying his name ignited a euphoric firework in his chest. Despite the casual nature of the conversation, it felt deeply personal since they were standing there alone, and Fanboy was addressing him directly. 

“I...I hate my friends," Duke grumbled. They knew what they were doing, leaving him isolated with his weirdo classmate.

“Hate them?!” Fanboy gasped, as he was one who valued the purity of friendship, was baffled by Duke's unabashed statement. “How DARE you, Sir!? The impudence! How could you even entertain such a cockamaney idea? Hating your own friends..." He shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes. “That-- *sniff* is SO sad…”

Duke glared at the ground, irksome. "No, it isn't." The quicker he could push Fanboy away, the better. "They ditched me, Nutball."

Shocked, Fanboy held his hands over his heart before nodding sympathetically, the insult either going over his flat head or unsuccessful at upsetting him entirely. "That hurts, but I'm positive ya’ll will be on the mend by tomorrow."

"How would YOU know?" Duke scoffed, subconsciously hoping that he didn't sound too snippy. "What, you keep checks on us?" Though vaguely bothersome, the likelihood of Fanboy's concern in their wellbeings made the skater's face warm. 

"In a manner of speaking." Fanboy shrugged, his smile shifting into something fairly coy. "Trivial or not, a hero never turns a blind eye." 

Duke dismissed the butterflies in his gut and turned his back to glare out to where Galaxy Hills sat on the horizon. He wondered vaguely whether he could make a run for it when Fanboy approached from behind, his converse bending the grass beneath his weight as he stopped to stand beside the other boy.

"Sorry they left," Fanboy quietly apologized. "It wasn't me, was it? I know they’re not exactly my biggest fans, which is baffling, I tell ya."

"Nah. It's whatever," Duke mumbled, shifting from side to side. “Not your fault.”

“Oh, good!” To lighten the mood, Fanboy remarked, "I saw you guys skateboarding down by the powerplant. That was wicked." 

Duke coughed into his hand, and Fanboy stared at him worriedly. "You okay there?"

"I'm fine, Man! Quit askin'!" Duke snapped, catching the superfan off guard and causing him to lean back till his knuckles touched the ground. The blonde felt immediate guilt and tried to soften his tone. "I'm fine, 'kay? You're not my babysitter."

"...Right, right, right," Fanboy spoke, looking hurt even behind a smile. "Sorry."

_"Good job, Bro,"_ Duke thought to himself. _"Way to be a jerk."_ He never meant to hurt Fanboy's feelings and felt immediately responsible for cheering the kid up. "You, uh, said you were watching us? From where?"

"Yeah!" Fanboy confirmed, taken slightly aback by the outburst but eager to jump on the second opportunity to repair the mood. Duke waited for him to elucidate his mystery whereabouts, but Fanboy said nothing else, just beamed.

"I didn't see you," Duke recalled. "Were you creeping or somethin'?"

Fanboy shook his head with a scoff. "Not at all, good sir. Invisibility ain’t my forte, but with a color palette like this, I tend to blend with street art."

Duke nodded slowly, stumped by Fanboy’s flippant admission to discreetly observing him from an unknown location. Then, it clicked. "What about Chum Chum?” he asked, craning his head searching for the orange-clad sidekick. “Where's he?"

"Oh, he’s around here somewhere. Now, invisibility IS his forte so he could really be anywhere," Fanboy answered dubiously, and then praised, "You're really talented."

Duke perked, his chest swelling with pride. “Right?” If there was one thing where he excelled, it was skateboarding, and he took every feasible chance to brag. "Mike and Cheech are grommets, but I'm a beast," he crowed. "You saw me hit a laser, right? I would've gone for the varial double kickflip, but that's ABD." He grinned, quite proud. "I'm a dude with steeze, what can I say?" He paused, realizing that THAT might've sounded very peacockish. He was purposely flouncing his skills right in Fanboy’s face for a reason other than mockery. 

Fanboy blinked, evidently lost, but still impressed. "Buddy, I have no idea what you just said, but you were awesome nonetheless."

Duke almost laughed, but he held it in. "Heh--mm. Thanks, Man." He needed to reign himself back if he wanted to get outta here.

"No problem!" Fanboy smiled and nudged his shoulder with his own, shrinking Duke’s escape door. "I wish I could skateboard. Maybe you could teach me one day, and in return, I can teach you how to fly!" 

Duke bit his bottom lip, feeling both queasy and excited at the touch and the possibility of future interactions with this strange kid. So far, speaking with Fanboy wasn’t horrible. In fact, he was proving to be open and kind. The skater slapped a hand over his blue eyes and tried not to think about potential consequences. “My bros... They, uh... you saw them too, right? Before they split?"

"Like bananas," Fanboy nodded. "I thought _I_ was fast, but they took off like lightning!"

Duke tried to relax, taking deep breaths and gently tugging a lock of hair near his ear, a nervous habit he'd picked up. "Before that, they...they were freaking out on me because they found out I have a, uh, crush.”

“A crush? You sly dog!" Fanboy smirked and punched his shoulder. "Who's the lucky gal, Beast?" 

Duke's smile went lopsided, his heart pounding at Fanboy’s use of Duke’s self-assigned title. "Um... I don't know." Fanboy cocked his head to the side and studied him with those wide green eyes, and Duke prayed that his cheeks weren't as red as he felt they were. "I mean, uh," he stumbled. "I dunno if I should tell you."

“Aw, please?” Fanboy pouted and put his hands on his hips. “I know we’re not buddy-buddy, but I'm no squealer.”

Duke leaned back against the tree trunk with his hands in his pockets, looking away. He wasn't so sure Fanboy could keep a secret, the loudmouth he was. However, this was an exceptional circumstance. He wasn’t sure he could get a chance like this again.

“Besides, who would I tell other than Chum Chum--which I wouldn’t do! Tell, I mean.” Fanboy chuckled and scratched the back of his neck. 

"What about Brace-Face?"

“You mean Kyle?" Fanboy half-smiled. "He wouldn’t even care enough to listen."

Duke said nothing, just kicked at the grass.

Fanboy thought for a moment, and then a lightbulb flashed above his head. “AHA! I’ve got it! Just describe her to me without saying her name!”

Interesting alternative. Duke considered. “Fine, but I’m keeping it vague. SHE uh…” He shifted from side to side, debating whether this really was the dumbest idea ever, but watching Fanboy eagerly bounce for clues made his heart flutter. “She’s...smart. At least, she’s smarter than people give her credit for.”

Fanboy gave the “ok” sign with his fingers. “Intelligence is always an admirable attribute,” he agreed. “Go on.”

Duke barked out a laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. Oh, this was a horrible idea. Irrespective, he kept going. “She’s--She...She um, she’s very...loud. But it's cute-loud.”

A snort from the superfan. “Cute-loud. I’m using that one to keep away the ladies,” he teased. 

Duke rolled his eyes but laughed. “She’s uh, creative and kinda, well, VERY goofy,” he admitted, “pretty funny, and likes to daydream and pretend and stuff. Oh, and she loves comics.”

“That’s, like, my dream-girl!” Fanboy sighed passionately, holding two thumbs up. “We speak the same language, my friend. Hehe! Does she happen to sport the badge of justice?” He was certainly joking, but Duke nodded before he could stop himself.

Fanboy’s jaw dropped. “WHAT? Get outta town!” he gasped. “Step aside, Duke, because _I_ wanna meet this girl!” He froze, something dawning on him. “Wait, are you talking about my _cousin?_ _Cousin Fandrea?_ ”

Duke paled and insisted, “NO,” but Fanboy was already on a roll. 

“It all makes sense!” he whispered, grabbing his own cheeks. “Goofy...creative, loud, wears a uniform on the job…” He counted them all off his fingers, growing more and more astounded with each passing second. “That’s my cousin! DUKE, you scoundrel!”

“It’s not your cousin!” Duke shouted. 

“No?”

**“NO!”**

“Oh, good! I still have a chance,” Fanboy teased, obviously relieved. “So if it’s not my cousin, bless her heart, then who is it? I don’t think I know her, do I?”

Duke was just about ready to faint. “Uhhhhhhh...sure.”

That gave Fanboy pause. He began to pace, mumbling names under his breath eyes narrowed in concentration. When he went through every person he’d ever met, he released a groan of frustration. “UGH, all these hints are just giving me indigestion!” Desperate, he crawled over and clutched the hem of Duke’s shirt. “Just tell me who it is! Please! I can’t go on to suffer in the roach-infested shadows!”

Duke stared down at the superfan clutching him like a vice and begging. “Did I mention she’s dramatic?” Duke risked dryly.

“No, you didn’t!” Fanboy whined. “And now I’m even MORE curious! You gotta tell me, Man! Help a feller out!”

Duke said nothing, just hung his head and rubbed the space between his eyes.

“IIIIIIII….Okay, I might’ve come on a little stronger than normal,” Fanboy nodded sheepishly, taking the hint and at last backing down. "That's okay. You don't hafta tell if you don't wanna. Still curious, though!"

Duke groaned under his breath and browsed the park for any lingering faces. "Fine." Taking a deep breath, he gathered enough resolve to prepare to confess. “I’ll tell you. Just keep it under wraps."

“Ooh, yay!" Fanboy glowed. “Peer pressure _is_ the answer!”

“I'm not kidding, Man. You better not tell anyone, not Dum Dum, not Brace-Face, not a single person, or I’ll clean your clock,” Duke warned, snapping his fingers. “Just like that! We clear?”

“Crystal!” Fanboy saluted, seemingly undisturbed by the threat. "I will NOT let you down!" 

"Good, and one more thing," Duke added, attempting to be selective with his words. "If I tell you this secret, you need to tell me one of yours, and it better be a good one." 

This condition, while daunting, seemed fair to Fanboy. He weighed it, rubbing his chin before coming to a decision. "Alright," he agreed. "Sounds fair to me." He held out his hand.

Duke took it to shake, and without warning, Fanboy hooked an arm around his shoulders and dragged him close. "Let it all out, Mr. Ellington," he whispered cryptically, almost seductively, leaning in and cupping his ear. “Tell the Fanman the name of your special, secret crush. He promises not to spread the word to the masses.”

Duke sighed flusteredly. He knew it was a bad idea, but if he didn't come clean to Fanboy right then, his friends would spill the beans themselves, and Duke couldn’t bear that. With that in mind, he took one last look around and whispered his confession.

"..."

He squeezed his eyes shut, his overactive imagination filling in for what might actually happen, but there was no initial response. When he opened his eyes, he was horrified to see Fanboy snorting behind his hands. 

“Uh, come again?”

Duke was beside himself. Did he really need to repeat it? Guess so.

Fanboy laughed again and waved in the blonde's face. “Ha! Even funnier the second time ‘round. But seriously, who?”

Duke grabbed the gloved hand, ignoring the flutter in his chest as he finally got Fanboy to stop and focus. “You, Fanboy. I have a crush on _you_.”

Something in Fanboy's smiling face shifted, and Duke wasn't sure what to make of that, nor the unnatural silence coming from the superfan. "...Why?" Fanboy eventually asked, his voice weird and airy.

Great, now he had to justify himself. “Didn’t I just tell ya, Man?" Duke mumbled. He wasn't clear how to appropriately word his affection. "Why not?"

Fanboy’s smile didn’t yet falter, but his brows furrowed in what Duke hoped wasn't disgust or anger. “Oookay,” said the hero cautiously, eyeing the hand tightly gripping his own. “But none of that stuff matters if...I think… you’ve ah…you know I’m not a girl, right?”

Duke closed his eyes. “I know. You have "boy" in your stupid name, Weirdo.”

“Right, but that would mean…” Now Fanboy looked truly bewildered. “Well, you’re not a girl, that much is obvious, not with THOSE guns. Hm… What does that signify?"

“That I like girls AND boys."

To say Fanboy looked surprised would be an understatement. He reeled back, mouth agape. "That's possible?!" he screeched, eye twitching. “DUDE!”

"Yeah... I know it sounds weird—”

Fanboy nodded. "Yeah! Really, REALLY weird."

"--but it's a thing." Duke's heart sank. “You've never had a crush on a dude before?”

Fanboy looked taken aback, even a little squeamish. “Oh, no! No, I don’t think--!” He paused, watching some hopeful part of Duke wilt right before his very eyes. Fanboy carefully recanted: “I've had three consecutive crushes in my life and all of them were on girls. Except, like...”

Duke lifted his gaze. “Hm?”

“Woof!” Fanboy flushed and nervously fanned his face. “I never thought feeling all mushy around a guy meant that I liked him like _that_!"

“Eh, not always,” Duke conceded, trying to conceal his hope. “Bro-love," the love you feel for your bros, or "family love," is totally different from the gross, romantic stuff.”

“That's true,” Fanboy conceded, looking slightly relieved. “So, you “bruv” your bros. I can get behind that! I’ve “bruved” Chum Chum for as long as I can recall! Ahaha! Haha...aha…” He was becoming flustered, fumbling around for what else to say.

“So..." Duke didn't want to be rude, but he had to know. "You've felt “mushy” around a dude.”

Fanboy shrugged awkwardly. “In truth, I didn't even _know_ it was possible for guys to like guys. It never even occurred to me.”

"So, no?"

Fanboy bunched his shoulders and pressed his fingertips together meekly. "Possibly? Not? Maybe? Though, I suppose it would explain a lot."

“Ugh, this is exactly why I didn’t wanna…” Duke paused, gathered his resolve, and asked, “Is it bad I told you?"

“No! Not at all!” Fanboy quickly amended, not wanting to upset his classmate. “Not bad... It's flattering! Kinda weird...but still flattering! And it’s always better to get that stuff on yer chest, you know?”

“Man…” Duke slumped. “My friends think it’s hilarious."

Fanboy wrinkled his nose. "Mm, I don't see why. It's grosser than anything else, but all romance is."

"They're confused by it, but I don’t blame them," Duke answered downcastly. “It confuses me too."

Fanboy smiled wearily. “Believe me, I’m just as confused as you are.”

They were silent for a moment.

“Like you said, I don’t think it’s _bad_ or anything, just pointless,” Duke said weakly, “but I still don’t like it. I just wanna like girls, not dudes. There’s no point for a dude to like another dude."

Fanboy pondered at that, rolling back his head to glance at the abandoned skateboard lying on its side, underbelly exposed. "...Dudes in general or just me?"

"Dudes in general," Duke shook his head, genuine worry creeping into his ordinarily chill voice. "That's why I didn't wanna tell you, because if everyone finds out, they'll all make fun of me.” 

"Ohhhh." Now Fanboy understood why Duke had been so hesitant. "Well, I'm not making fun of you," he pointed out. Duke flinched, hugging himself with his arms as he flopped on the ground in defeat, a display of uncertainty Fanboy hadn't ever seen from the blonde. It sent a rush of compassion through him, as well as a determination to save the situation.

“Aw, don't be down, Duke,” the superfan soothed, kneeling beside his classmate. "C'mon, what's the worst they could call you?"

Duke didn't answer, the concepts popping up in his mind too vile to repeat. The things HE used to say with his friends to mock a type of person he turned out like himself.

“Can't be any worse than what you call me," Fanboy lightly pointed out. Duke froze and slowly turned to the superfan, who had a knowing expression on his masked face. “Mmhm. Welcome to the club, my friend." 

Fanboy knew. He'd heard.

“Oh, Man. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, man," Duke apologized, feeling sick to his stomach. "H-How much did you hear?"

Fanboy shrugged and glanced upward to where he'd been camping in the branches. "Not sure. I was waiting to be bitten by a radioactive squirrel, but nothing showed up, so I took a nap." His face fell. "I thought I was dreaming when ya'll arrived.”

"I'm sorry," Duke apologized, wondering if Fanboy was implying that he'd dreamt about Duke before.

"And besides that, what? You don’t _remember_ giving me “wet-willies” and calling me a weirdo? You just forgot? Psh. Yeah, right.”

Duke flinched, realizing that yes, he could be quite the...bully. “Sorry,” he repeated. 

“Are you?" Fanboy smirked. "Really? How can you call names one minute and dibs in the next?”

Duke waved his hands helplessly. “I—wait. Dibs?”

“Well, I, for one, would never call the person I like names.” Fanboy went on, ignoring Duke's objections. “Take, for example, if someone were to walk up to my crush and say, 'Hey, Stupid! You're looking dumb today!', I’d give you a man-hug and say, "Duke, don't listen to that. You are the coolest, strongest, most handsome..." Fanboy hesitated. "Ahem, you get the point.”

Duke blinked, deciding not to comment on that specific example and instead plead for forgiveness. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I was just-”

Fanboy waved good-naturedly. “Oh, pish to the posh," he assured, though Duke swore he caught a hint of discomfort in his voice. "I know I’m awesome, and if you’re telling the truth about crushing on me," he smiled sweetly, borderline flirtatiously, "you must think so too.”

“Don't push it,” Duke warned, but couldn't help a small smile as his blue eyes met green. 

“I won't. That’s my gift to you,” Fanboy's smiled softened, but his eyes held that irrefutable look of amusement. “AND you’re forgiven, Mr. I-Think-Fanboy-Is-Cute. HA!”

“You think I’m handsome!” Duke shot back. “You just said it in your dumb little example!”

Fanboy squinted at him. “Hm. Now that I think about it, you’re less of a beast and more of a hunk.” He nodded, more confident. “Lemme rephrase. I think you’re a hunk.”

“Uhhhh…” Duke covered his face. “Am I dreaming or did you just call me a hunk? Bro.”

“Oh please, anyone with eyes can see that, and I'm half-blind!” Fanboy sniggered. “I mean, look at that hair! Rowr!” He snapped his jaws playfully.

Duke was wrong to think his face couldn’t burn any hotter, and additionally to expect Fanboy to recoup so hastily from his prior confusion. “Huh,” he gasped weakly, scratching his head. “I’d return the compliment, but I’ve never seen your hair.”

To that, Fanboy laughed with genuine mirth. Duke watched, his heart fluttering. He knew right then that he really liked seeing Fanboy happy and felt even better being the source of that happiness.

“Oh, that’s not an issue. Chum Chum and I know I’m smoking hot! Cha-ching!” Fanboy winked, finger-gunning. “Besides, if I were to reveal my secret identity, it’d put those closest to me in serious peril.”

Duke couldn’t prevent the next words from flying out of his mouth: “I live for the risk. Yolo.”

Fanboy quirked a brow, impressed. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, Man.”

Fanboy and Duke shared a funny look, and now it was the superfan’s turn to go red with flattery. “Well,” he exclaimed, “I do believe we’ve laid everything out properly. So, we’re good?” he asked, holding out his gloved hand.

Duke sighed contentedly and leaned in to take it, but Fanboy made the unexpected move by pulling the other boy into a comforting hug. "Seriously though, thanks for letting me know. Your secret's safe with me," the superfan assured.

"N-No problem," the skater stuttered back, stiff in the warm, unfamiliar hold. This was way different than a man-hug, and that declaration made Duke's heart pound wildly. 

Fanboy pulled back, his pupil blown and his face flushed. He gave Duke's hand another squeeze, and the world around them seemed to disappear.

“So, I'll see ya later?”

“Uh, yeah.” Duke breathed. “Later.”

"Great!" Fanboy wound back, ready to zoom off, but then Duke remembered.

"Wait a sec!" He reminded the other boy. "You gotta tell ME a secret now, remember?" He was unsure if Fanboy was going to hold up his end of the deal without being coaxed.

"Oh, right-right-right!" Fanboy paused, looking quite conflicted before shrugging, “Welp, yolo,” and pecking the blonde on the cheek. "There. Nice board, by the way! It really complements my destructive nature." Before Duke had time to register what had just happened, Fanboy was off. "See ya later, Skater!” 

Duke stared after him, breathless. He gave a modest wave. "Y-Yeah," he replied, although Fanboy was way too far to hear him. "See ya." Then, he smiled earnestly and felt the area on his face where Fanboy had kissed him. Kissed him! He liked him back. He liked him back! Duke's face broke out into a victorious beam and he pumped his fists in the air.

"YES!" he whispered-shouted, jumping in place and uncaring of who noticed. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES!" He'd just poured his heart out to his crush, which in turn provided compassion and deeper comprehension he didn't understand Fanboy was even capable of. He grinned and dusted off his skateboard. "Maybe I won't throw you in a woodchipper, Man," he mused. 

"Teehee! I told you guys he would--"

Duke froze. Slowly, he looked up to find Cheech, Michael, and Chum Chum, all hiding poorly behind flimsy branches. He blinked, for once not feeling a surge of anger he usually did when his privacy was invaded but was puzzled all the same. 

"Whoops," Chum Chum finished sheepishly before giving the boy below an apologetic wave. "Hi!" 

"SHHH! We're not here!" Cheech squeaked desperately, covering his face with a random branch. "It's just a pack of radioactive squir--AH!"

With a thunderous crash, all three boys tumbled out of the branches and landed in a groaning pile at Duke's feet, fortunately unharmed.

What on earth did this all mean? Duke just shook his head, dazed. "Uh..." He looked off to where Fanboy had disappeared and smiled in bewilderment, wondering just how much that wily superfan knew.


End file.
